An Ode to the Forgotten
by Lufelitan
Summary: It's been 15 years since the end of the Second World War in Europe, but some ghosts of the past still remain. A Germany/England fic set in 1960s Europe and containing supernatural elements.


Ludwig sighed enviously as he pulled his car into the driveway of Arthur's house. He'd always dreamed of living in the English countryside. He longed for some tranquility and solitude instead of the noise and overcrowding of London. Maybe he'd adopt a little dog to play fetch with him in the backyard. As he stepped out of the car, he took a deep breath of the cool evening air and gazed over the rolling hills of jade-green grass. The sun hung low in the sky as some stars had already made their appearance. In the distance was a small village whose street lights glowed against the dim horizon. It was here that Ludwig found a rare peace within himself. He wondered what it would be like to spend every day like this.

He tore himself away from the enchanting sight and walked towards the front porch. This house wasn't as old as the ones in the village, but it still had a rustic charm that Ludwig enjoyed. The walls were made of earthy red bricks, covered in some places by night-blooming Moonflower vines, and the roof was built from a dark-colored wood. A small moth was fluttering around the porch light, which Ludwig was quick to shoo off. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. After wiping the mud from his shoes, he stepped inside.

The interior of the house was just as appealing as the outside, with pale yellow wallpaper and old-fashioned furniture. Arthur had decorated the couch with a few hand-embroidered pillows and placed a bookcase brimming with classic literature against the wall. It was more of a home than Ludwig's London apartment could ever be. The only thing that bothered him was the light layer of dust covering every surface. He made a mental note to lecture Arthur about that later.

Muffled shuffling came from the master bedroom. Ludwig walked to the bedroom door and knocked, receiving a high-pitched yelp from behind it.

The door swung open to reveal Arthur, his hair mussed and dark circles under his eyes. "Bloody hell, mate. Give me a heart attack, why don't you? I didn't even hear you come in!"

Ludwig was more concerned with Arthur's disheveled appearance than his current mood. "Are you alright? You look tired." Arthur waved his hand in dismissal.

"I'm fine. I've just had trouble sleeping lately, that's all. Would you like to come inside?" He stepped back and allowed Ludwig to walk into the bedroom.

The first thing Ludwig noticed was the bulletin board on the wall. Pinned up to it was a collage of newspaper headlines about claimed paranormal encounters, diagrams of ghosts and demons, and 'scientific' papers about the afterlife. He stared at it as he sat on the bed.

"Do you like it?" Arthur asked. "I bought the board about a week ago. Thought I'd put all my stuff where I can see it."

Ludwig nodded. He was more than aware of Arthur's eccentricities. He'd never really believed in the supernatural, but after all that Arthur had done for him, the least he could do was humor him and his antics. "Have you found anything new recently?"

Arthur faced the board and pointed to one of the headlines. "Yes, actually. I found a news story about this residual haunting in Hampshire."

He proceeded to babble on about the things he's read since Ludwig's last visit. Ludwig zoned out almost immediately, nodding occasionally to give the impression he was still listening. He had to admit one thing to himself: Arthur was a very attractive man. Even in his tired state, he maintained the image of a calm and collected gentleman, which was betrayed by his bitter and sarcastic personality. Sure, he could be spacey at times, but he was hard-working all the same. The best part was that they understood each other. They understood what it was like to want to be alone sometimes. Despite turning 30 in a few months, Ludwig felt like a young schoolgirl fawning over his closest friend like this. He'd been wrestling with these sort of feelings since his early teens, yet they never seemed to relent.

Ludwig's back and limbs ached from work. All day he'd been changing tires and repairing automotive engines. Because of this, the bed beneath him seemed quite comfortable at the moment. He shifted his position to lie down with his head on the foot of the bed. He kept nodding whenever Arthur paused to see if he was paying attention, but eventually the softness of the comforter and physical exhaustion from work lulled him into sleep. 

A gentle knocking echoed through the house, rousing Ludwig from his sleep. He opened his eyes and felt something draped over his legs and torso. It took his drowsy mind a few seconds to recognize it as a blanket. He figured Arthur must've pulled it over him after he fell asleep. Ludwig refused to move. It was dark, it was cold, and his body was still sore. The knocking started again, louder this time, followed by Arthur's irritated yelling.

Ludwig heard the creaking of the front door. Curious and a bit anxious as to who would come to Arthur's house so late at night, he stood up and dragged himself into bedroom door. He peered down the hall and into the living room to see Arthur holding the door open for a man unknown to Ludwig.

The stranger had a round face, short stature, and a leather backpack slung over his shoulders. A snow-white Maltese puppy lay sleeping in his arms. Ludwig noticed that the stranger made no sound as he moved around the living room. As he walked, there was silence instead of the expected soft thudding whenever his feet made contact with the floor.

"How long's it been, Arthur?" The stranger said. A light foreign accent tinged his voice. "Must have been years."

"I was hoping it'd be a little longer than that," Arthur responded. The stranger giggled.

"Now, now. I thought you'd appreciate the effort I put into finding you again. Besides, this is more than just a friendly visit."

Arthur's eyes widened. He closed the door and double-locked it. He whispered, "Alright, just keep it down, will you? I have a guest in the other room, and I don't need him knowing about this."

The stranger nodded and lowered his voice. Ludwig strained to hear what he said next. "The Red Army is coming. They've just entered from Scotland. They should be here in a few days."

"No worries, then. I've dodged them before, I can do it again."

"You can't just run away like that. You are still close to that German boy, aren't you?"

Arthur hesitated before responding. "Of course. He's the only family I've got left."

"Then how are you going to explain moving away without warning? What are you going to do if they find him and you're not around to appease them?"

"Then what the hell am I supposed to-"

The stranger shushed him, for his voice had risen in frustration. "I know this sounds crazy, but I can take you to them. The summoner they have now is useless. I'm sure if you just do a few favors for them, they'll let you go."

"And how do you know that?"

"I don't." The stranger admitted. "But it'll be better to negotiate now than to put someone you love at risk later. You can trust me on that."

Arthur looked down at the floor and sighed.

"I leave work tomorrow at five in the evening. You can take me to them then."

The stranger nodded. He scratched the Maltese behind the ear as he said his goodbyes to Arthur and unlocked the door. After the stranger walked outside, Arthur shut the door and leaned against it, cursing under his breath.

Arthur started walking back down the hallway. His posture stiffened when he met Ludwig's eyes.

"Ludwig!" he exclaimed. "Oh God, I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No," Ludwig lied. "I woke up just now. I need to use the lavatory."

Arthur relaxed. "Alright, you know where that is. You fell asleep without eating dinner, so there are some leftovers in the fridge if you want them."

Ludwig thanked him, but food was the last thing on his mind at the moment. As Arthur walked into the guest bedroom and closed the door behind him, Ludwig made his way into the bathroom.

He turned on the sink faucet and splashed his face with cold water. He gasped as the icy chill hit his skin. Now he had assured himself that he was awake and not in some bizarre dream. As he dried himself off with a towel, millions of questions flooded his head. What was all this talk about the Red Army? Why was Arthur involved? Why did this stranger seem to know who he was?

Irrational conclusions of Soviet bomb threats and possible hallucinations clouded his mind. So much that it took him a few seconds to notice the sink was nearly overflowing. When he did, he quickly turned the faucet off and watched as the water swirled back down the drain, taking his thoughts and anxieties with it.

He walked back into the master bedroom and nearly passed out onto the bed. All of his worries and questions were displaced by feelings of fatigue. As he slept, he dreamt of Maltese puppies and silent footsteps.


End file.
